Cold, Cold Death
by firerooster757
Summary: The bitter cold of Alaska does nothing for those who survive. In the small town of Lower Okary, four survivors must trek across the frozen wilderness to seek safe haven from the infected.
1. Greene's final deed

"They told us not to worry. They told us not to prepare... Well, for it. They did tell us to prepare for the recovery. But not for the danger itself. Funny, we're always thinking so far ahead that we can't deal with the problem now. Well, I can't really say how long I have. Or what will happen to me once I turn. But anyway, I find myself wishing I truly believed what they wanted me to believe. That they had all this under control. That the infection would not spread all the way to Alaska. I'm going to make sure my last thoughts are not selfish. My body, is locked in the basement. Assuming that I have not turned to a big one, I should not harm you. But what I'm telling you is, under this board, you will find some supplies left over from me. Please don't fool yourselves. Killing these demon possessed people is nowhere near sin. And remember, never, ever, forget who brought you here. This is pastor Greene, saying good luck to whomever finds this."


	2. Raven and Olka

Church. It's such a strange, hostile idea for some. Sometimes, it's the only idea for a person, other times, it's their rock. Whatever the reason, it seemed like the church had some sort of safety to it. Raven remembers the times of warmth inside the church. During the Alaskan winter, where the cold is so great that locals would wear their snow coats during service despite the powered heating. But, to Raven's disappointment, the church had a cold air as she stepped inside. But still having courtesy, she quietly shook the snow from her boots as she approached the worship area. Besides the distant banging from the back of the church, she eased into the welcoming silence. After laying her wood chopping ax against the wall, she played the cassette player that was sitting on a front row seat. It was very comforting to hear Greene's voice. He was more of a leader to the town than the sherif or the mayor. As his voice played on, she didn't really bother finding meaning behind the words. She just needed comfort. Something that she rarely revived outside of church. Being only twenty, she's lived alone, working as a trapper along the outskirts of town. Sitting against the wall, she clutches the cassette player as if it was her ticket away from this horrid decease. As her straight brown hair rests along her shoulders, she uses her left hand to tug the hood of her dark blue coat further over her didn't have a plan. She didn't really need one. Go to church, and well.. Die? That's something of a plan.

"If I die here, so be it." She said, almost expecting Greene to respond.

This was not his world. This was the world that he's been told about as a child. A land of greed, guilt, and shame. Tugging on his deer skin coat, Olka hesitantly walked along the abandoned road to town. He felt safe with his hatchet in his hand, but with the weather, he had a hard time picking out hills from the Windago. He's saw it once. Large, a glutton of mass and muscle. With a face of pure hate and fury. Despite the unknown chaos that erupted in the white man's world, he found that living in the forest was strange. He found blood piles and footprints everywhere. Today was the day that he would talk to the locals. Isolation was a comfort that he must not grow to need. Despite being homeschooled, he knew local politics, but everything in the American mainland was unknown to him. As he walked, he could hardly see any wandering people in the streets. Only a few lone people who seem unknown to each other. Clutching his hatchet tighter, he wondered if they were even still human.


	3. Eric and Corey

Eric never really hated the snow. But he can't really remember liking it either. He never really saw much of it from living in Dallas, Texas. He's a good hearted man, or that's what people tell him. Promptly after getting his medical degree, he left to rural Alaska to treat some tribesmen living up north. Of course, he was educated enough to be hired by the government to do this, but he never really thought of it as a job, more as a trade if you will. With his gear in the back of the truck, the makes sure to save fuel as he parks next to a fallen tree blocking the road. Resting back into his seat, he puts his hands on the wheel as if he was still driving. He's heard enough of the radio to know what's going on. To gather in public places, stay calm, maintain a healthy mindset, basic psychological practices. With a heavy sigh, he starts the truck back up and he drives around the fallen tree. Of course, this was a risky maneuver, but he's seen what lies outside the comfort of his truck. He knew that having headlights on could attract the infected, but the weather worked in his favor by the fact that it provides perfect cover around the safe haven that is the Red Cross truck.

Corey hated himself for it. All those years of being a hypocrite. He always tells these people that he's the people's leader, when in fact he could be barely be considered a leader, much less from the fact that he was mistakenly put at sherif because he was the first officer to volunteer. These thoughts haunted him as he looked through his binoculars at the woman walking in the church. This was a small enough town for the infected to be manageable, if there were any people to manage it from. This was the only survivor he's seen in about a month. Surely several of the more rural people were still alive. But why come to town? Didn't she know that everyone's infected? This infection was very spreadable. It seemed like people that even thought about it too long got it right there and then. With his bullet-proof vest on, he put on his trooper hat. Something about those two things always made him feel better no matter how bad he felt. Of corse, the little Sheriff's office was suited for three to four employees, but his father before him made sure that these guns could supply up to ten people with sidearms. Stroking his beard as he walked, Corey thought about the woman. Did he know her? Was she even a local? If she was, she didn't really do that much, as Corey was a well known man. Wandering into the bathroom, he gazes to himself in the mirror.

"You should of been one of them. You should of died by now." He says bitterly to himself. People always told him he didn't give himself enough love, but he's been this way since highschool, where he always felt nervous around women that he found pretty. He never thought of himself as good enough for anything except for being a servant for the people. He was polite, even friendly to the locals, but never to himself. He was his own enemy. His own bitter, cold enemy.


	4. Cold Reception

Corey, who has found himself to be very much alone, never really considered what to do next. He had MREs in the station, perhaps it would supply for him until help arrives. But really? Would they really go through all that trouble for one man in a small town in the middle of frozen tundra? He didn't even know if anyone heard his radio broadcasts. Slinging his Prized .270 across his back, he tightly holds his nightstick as he treks out into the cold and hostile outside. He would visit the woman in the church, perhaps it may be someone to share food with, or at least someone to live out the last of his days with. Tipping his hat to the wind, he doesn't really shiver despite only wearing his uniform and a vest. He was used to this cold. Taking in a deep breath, he steps inside the church.

Raven hated to think that she had given up all together. She's never had to deal with the infection like many would. She hated the thought of it. They might be alive, or they might be dead. Either way, she did not want to live through this Armageddon. Turning her head to the front of the church, a taller man with bushy facial hair steps into the church with her. Of course she recognized the man as the Lower Okary sheriff. He was the first to speak.

"Now I didn't think I'd see a living soul ever again." He says warmly, despite the feeling of dread in his heart. Standing up, Raven grunts a little. She's been sitting down for about an hour and a half, so she felt like she was tired. "I'm sheriff Sylvester. But you can call me Corey."

"Raven." She says extending her hand, which is soon greeted by Corey's. "Nice to meet someone not wanting to beat me to the ground."

Eric felt like he was doing all he could. From what he knew about this infection, the villages out in the mountains were better off with their isolation. Isolation is the only cure for the Green Flu. He was driving to the nearest settlement he knew about, perhaps he could link up with the Red Cross, and not with those hideous, mindless, animals. Since a a hour ago, the storm that came by has nearly blinded him from the road. The heavy bombardment of snow made it hard to see the road, or recognize what his headlights were doing. He barely even saw that man dressed in deer skin. A true local. But what in the hell is he doing here? Unless he's infected.

Olka's seen a truck once. That very truck in fact. Turning his head as it neared him, he could recognize the man driving it. The man with glasses that taught him how to clean a wound. Waving his hand, he can visibly see the man was having a hard time seeing. So diving out of the way, finally the truck stops.


	5. Cold Reception Part Two

(Author's note: I hate to do this, but I'm talking to you, the viewer. First of all, let me say I'm sorry for making an author's note. Second of all, thank you for reading this far. Third of all, I'd really like reviews, and perhaps ideas on where it's going next.)

It was about an hour of silence before Olka said anything. He seemed like a quiet, but respectable man. But he didn't know what to do with himself in a truck. During this time, Eric was trying to explain what is happening in the world.

"Where are we going now?"

"Lower Okary. I think that it's too far away to be infected." Eric said, making sure to focus on the icy road. "And I guess we can make a plan with who's there.. If anyone is there. This infection is the most spreadable disease I know of."

After about a long hour of driving, the town can be seen in the distance. Olka was leaning forward as he scanned the landscape. "I see no one. Not even the dead." Having good sight while Eric's was less than perfect, Olka was assigned as the designated spotter. The town was interesting to him. All he knew was scattered cabins and some tents. So the concept of a concrete building was a new one. He could imagine that they were more sturdy and hard than the log cabins, but they seemed oddly dead. Oddly lifeless. Cold, grey, lifeless.

Corey already knew what kind of a person Raven was before this infection. He was good at that kind of thing. With him sitting on the stage, Raven was still sitting against the wall. Of course, despite them talking about their past lives, the banging can still be heard from the basement.

"Okay, here's my theory. A Russian super weapon that is able to manipulate the mind and body into a fury." Raven said as she put her hands behind her head. With a chuckle from Corey, whom stands from the stage to look out the window.

"I'm sure there's places that wasn't hit. Like those tribes up north. They probably don't even know that there is a virus."

"Well, I saw an infected wearing a coat from a bear skin. I don't know what tribe he's from, but since this virus is probably airborne, we can assume it's immune to cold. Yet again, he might just be someone 'round here that happens to have a bear skin coat."

Corey scratched his beard as he listened. Smiling for a time. "Something tells me that our best bet is to stick it out. Wait for rescue... Or at least other survivors. Or perhaps to the point where we can't sustain ourselves."

"What about spring? We could go south to Russia. To find more rural land. Then.. You know.. Go back to surviving. Then hopefully by the time we get to a costal island, we still have a week or two of summer left." Raven said from her seated position. She found herself seriously thinking about this plan. Nothing was here for her. Just a little cabin and a bundle of firs. She leaned back, closing her eyes for a second. It was her, the sound of her breathing, the banging, and the coughing.


End file.
